


Uggy's OneShots

by idontevenknowugh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Body Modification, Body Worship, Cherryberry - Freeform, Death, Emotional Manipulation, First Time, Forced Pregnancy, Hypnotism, Incest, Ketchupberry, Lamiae, M/M, Obsession, Other, Oviposition, Painful Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sanster, Swapcest - Freeform, Underage Sex, Violence, Vore, beastiality, body image issues, kustard - Freeform, skelepreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8662699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenknowugh/pseuds/idontevenknowugh
Summary: Lots of sin here, mostly of the skeletal variety. Every chapter title will tell you what pairing and the really bad stuff, with detailed warnings in the summary for the chapter.





	1. The Void Looks Back- Sanster - Vore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans gets Gaster back, but the void has changed him a bit. 
> 
> Warnings: Sanster, vore, body horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wolfbunny](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny) and I were talking and this happened. I have no other explanation. I just…don’t.

It had worked! Sans dropped his clipboard, all thoughts of recording the results of the test forgotten. He didn’t need anymore tests. In front of him, looking a little less…solid than before, was Doctor Gaster himself!

“Dings!” He cried out, stepping forward to great his former boss and lover. He had no idea what the time the other monster had spent trapped between realities had done to him, but they could figure that out later. What ever had happened to his body could be undone, and even if it couldn’t Sans didn’t care. He was just thrilled to have the doctor back, in any form.

Two long thin forms jutted out of the black ooze that Wingdings seemed to be formed of now, and Sans, quite naturally, thought they were arms. As…slimy, as the other skeleton looked, Sans wasn’t about to deny him a hug after so long trapped. This was one of of the most important monsters in the world to him, and he was going to help him readjust to life. Not showing any disgust at his new form was step one.

“It’s been so long, too long,” Sans felt tears on his cheeks at the thought of having Wingdings back in his life, in their lives. Oh, Papyrus was going to have so many questions but that didn’t matter! As Sans approached, a slow smile started to grow across Gaster’s skull. Sans’s scientific mind marveled at how the ivory surface had smoothed out, looking all definition except for the jaw, sockets, and the two cracks that ran along each side. He hadn’t had those when he left. Sans wondered what ha happened, but now was now was not the time for such questions. All in good time.

S̛̠̩͟a͝͡͏͇̗̯n̹̼̩̲͈̩̟̠͈͜s̨̼͖͘̕

The raspy, broken voice sent shivers down his spine, but he forced himself to smile back. His steps, and his smile, faltered as Gaster’s grin didn’t stop growing, eventually reaching the sides of his, was that really a skull? What this really Gaster? He took a step back as he watched what he thought had been his lover transform into something unspeakable.

The slip made by his mouth allowed his mandible to start sinking down while the cracks from his sockets started to expand, the sockets themselves loosing definition as the upper portion of his skull split into three, all the parts expanding outward. Between the four pieces of bone was a blackness that was even deeper than the outside of Wingding’s body. It was pitch black in a way that made Sans think of how he had read about black holes described. And yet, despite appearing to be one solid darkness, it gave off the nauseating impression of movement.

Sans ran. The tentacles he had mistaken for arms wrapped around his leg and his torso, pulling him to the ground. He thrashed, desperate mind trying to shortcut himself away, but it didn’t seem to be working. Panic grew as he tried again and again and again. He felt his magic rip a hole through the void, felt his body shift, but he didn’t actually go anywhere. He grew exhausted as his magic depleted further and further through his attempts.

Í̴͉̼͕̹̹͍̬ṯ̶̫̖̟̟̱̤͢ͅͅ ̣̤͖w̢͔͈̳ͅo̴̩̜͕͚͕͕̻̣n̴͔̞͚̮'̛͏͏̭͉̹͚͙t̢̼̫̙͢͡ͅ ̶̝̼̻̳̝̫w̨̹̦̼̙̖̲͇͙o͎͝͝r̴̤͡k̵̪̖͖̺̥͔̺̠̪

Sans froze as the voice cracked and shrieked the words, despite the horror in front of him no longer having a voice. What did that mean? Did this ooze have control over his magic? It didn’t feel like it. Sans tried to think his way out of this as he was slowly dragged forward, though fear made thought difficult. He just had to focus. He had one, maybe two attempts left.

I̭̖̮ ̢͎w̦̠̬̙̖̭̬̯͞ͅi̳̬l̵̶͎̣̜̯͍̭l̷̡̰̭̮̩ ̩̱̰̦͞k̸̙̬̳͇̮e̶͉e͝͏̯̪̯̖p̧̝͇̙̼̗̤̙̘͞ ̴͖͙̭̬͙̤͜b̪̳ṛ͉͟í̪͉͈̲͈͘n͓̻̲̫͘g̨͉͎̠̙͓̰ͅi͚͚͚͍̦̞͓n̺̳̻̲̫̕g̛̬̣̕ ̢̟̱͔̥͍̼̱̲y̵̴̡̦̬ó̢̥̣̱͈̝͝u̲͖̭̬͉̪͡ ̷̛͓̖͔̩̲͕b̶̤̯̘͠a̬͍͓̙͉̰̯̼̳͞c̣̲̳̮̀k̵̩͈̬̘̼̺̕

As he drew near to the gaping maw of darkness, Sans could feel the words like physical things crawling along his bones. He let out a whimper as he was slowly lifted off the ground by the pull of the tentacles. He didn’t know what that meant beyond that shortcuts wouldn't work. So he tried something else. A flurry of bones appeared and sunk into the oozing mass with a series of sickening squelches. The monstrosity didn’t react.

Ư̶̬͚͉s͚̦͇̫̠͘e̡̲̻͔̺̹̯͘͢ͅl̺͓͙̞͍͇e̷̞͈̪̝̟̰̲ş̤̣̭̦͙̝̮͝s͏҉̘̠̬̳

His legs were pulled into the slimy blackness, and Sans found that it was disturbingly warm and thick. It immediately began to push into his joints and Sans screamed as the magic that was holding him together fought the intrusion. His phalanges reached for the floor, arms flailing, as hysteria finally took hold. It reached his pelvis, rushing to fill and encompass the bones there. His clothing seemed to be no obstacle to the ooze, the fabric just as saturated with the slime as he was.

“no! help! papyrus!” Sans screamed, voice uncharacteristically shrill from terror, desperate for some kind of salvation. His ribs sank into Gaster, his ribcage slowly filling. His soul pounded as the ooze grew near. What would it do to his soul? Was this the end? Was he about to die? The first touch of the inky slime on his soul sent convulsions through his body. His screaming died off as the entirety of Gaster’s experiences flooded into him. He couldn’t take it. His mind short circuited as he spiraled into an endless pit of memories that weren’t his.

“SANS!” Papyrus entered the lab with a crash, the door flying open on broken hinges. He lept down the stairs, his brother’s fear laced screams overriding everything else. What he saw, though, stopped him dead. Sans was being sucked into a great big black…thing, and was already consumed up to his cervical vertebrae, one arm hanging out beside it. His brother’s sockets were empty and the only movement was a slight twitching.

“GIVE HIM BACK, YOU, YOU FIEND!” Papyrus rushed forward and grabbed the arm, pulling gently at first, afraid to hurt Sans in the process, and than harder as his efforts had no effect. He was pulling with all his might as Sans’s sockets disappeared, only the crown of his skull and his hand visible now. The process didn’t stop, only pulling his phalanges in along with his brothers. He instinctively let go and pulled back as the edge of his glove disappeared with a slight burning sensation. Papyrus could do nothing more than stare on in horror as Sans disappeared into the darkness.

“GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER!” He screamed, bones appearing everywhere and hurtling towards the beast, another appearing and attacking as soon as the one before it was loosed. Papyrus let his magic pour out of him without thought or hesitation. None of it seemed to phase the other, however, as it began to shrink in on itself, the top semicircle and the bottom point of it’s teardrop shaped opening coming together. There was bone at each point and Papyrus only grew more furious as a sections slowly stitched themselves together into a grinning face.

Desperate for anything to help, Papyrus checked the thing, hoping that it was some manner of creature with stats. Maybe he could find a way to help  
Sans.

 

 

  
Ẉ̧̪̺͉͍͇̭͚̙͓̲̫͛̀͗̇̈͂̎ͭ̔̍ͫͬͫͤ́̚͘.̵̶͗̓̑̿̓̉ͬ͛̓̈ͬ̉̀̚͏̻͖̰̫̯̥̼̲̤̹̘͕͉ͅD̴̵̞̪̙̦͚̖̝̤̺̱͕̜̜̮͉͎ͧ͋̃̽̈ͬͤͫ̀̄ͪ̐́̕͠.͑̾̏̈҉̫͔͇̘͈̩͍̟̣̰͠ ̓̿͊ͩ̓ͣͮ̎̓̾ͬ̿ͨ̽͊̒̇̆͠҉̵̼͙̙̬̯G̵̹̲͓͙͙͓͔͕͕̺̺̜̲̪̠̥ͣ͗̾͗̓̆̆ͦ̿ͮ̒ͣ́͒̌͒̿͗̕a͈̲̙͈̞̠̲̱̻͚̞̭̘̲̫̩͇̍ͨͤ̌ͣ͊̈ͬ̒̔ͤ̈́̓̂̊ͥ̀͘͝͞s̡̧̤̯͉̗̣͖̗̝̱͙̠̦͉͉̞̆̇̈̈́͊ͧ̈́͑͐̑̂͐͌̚tͧ͋̌̐̅ͨ́̈́̋̃ͤ͗ͩ͊̿̂̑̚҉̜̪͓e̯̪̭͔̹̤̣͔͒̓̐̽́̿ͩ͒ͬ̇ͧ̐ͮͬ͜ṛ̴̢̞̠̰͓̤̙͕̫͈̗͔̜̎̀̍̇̐̾ͥ͂̿͌̇̏ͅ  
A̵͢͢͝T͘Ķ̴ ̸́͠͝*̡̨̢͢͢*̷̀*̸̨͝ ̶͞͠ ̵D̡͏͏È͏͠F̵̵́͡͞ ̴͏̵͜͡*̀͜*̸͟͜͢҉*͢͞  
H͠͠͏͈̩̩̼̜̜͠e̷̢̜̲̰̱ ̸̙̞̘̮̞̤̦̣̙̬̗̟̥͈͇̲͡i̝̥̞̹̖̙̩̱̰̞̬̼̹̩͓̙͟͢͢͠ͅs̲͓̀ͅͅ ̸͘͏̥͚̜̹̙̝̹ͅm̵̡̞̲̣͔̻̤̥̣̯̦i҉̲͈̤̹͕̲̬̠̮̠̘͉͡ͅn͏̗̪̞̹͇̦͚͢ę̴̼̼̦͈͢͞͠ ̵̴̱͓̞̻̟ͅn̡̡҉̧̫̟̲̺̜̺̹̰̘̫̰͙̥͍̳ơ̢̗͈̜͓̲̩̪̘̜͍̰̞͇͜w̕͏̜̟͉.̘̺̯͎̘͕̫͍̠̣̯͚͎̦͎̼͢

 

 

Papyrus recoiled, looking away for a soul beat. When he looked back it was gone, and so was Sans.


	2. No More Distractions - Swapcest - Violence, Death, Rape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something freeing about letting yourself off the hook. Today, Papyrus decided, he would finally relax and let loose. He was tired of being strict with himself. He was tired of denying himself what he wanted for the sake of others. What had they done to deserve his suffering? No, those filthy people had gone and thrown all of his self control back in his face. If they thought so little of it, then Papyrus was happy to abandon it. 
> 
> Warnings: violence, blood, death, obsession, rape/noncon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this comic](http://eli-sin-g.tumblr.com/post/152467631118/boi-this-one-prompt-is-exceptionally-fucked-up-and) by [eli-sin-g](http://eli-sin-g.tumblr.com/), which made my creep Swap Pap loving heart get all worked up. I love their art so much and this comic was just AMAZING. I really wanted to write it from inside Papyrus’s fucked up brain, and I hope I did it justice. ^_^

There was something freeing about letting himself off the hook. Today, Papyrus decided, he would finally relax and let loose. He was tired of being strict with himself. He was tired of denying himself what he wanted for the sake of others. What had they done to deserve his suffering? No, those filthy people had gone and thrown all of his self control back in his face. If they thought so little of it, then Papyrus was happy to abandon it.

He caught the back of her shirt, but barely. His phalanges clenched, clinging to the bit of fabric as the unexpected pressure of his grip made her slip and fall. She hit the floor with a thud and a gasp. She was crying. He frowned down at her as she fought to regain her footing, slipping in the blood that had splashed onto the floor. She shifted so that she could look up at him, fear bright in her eyes. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to see. She had been one of the worst…

_Happy Birthday!_

_“Oh my stars! Are these really-?”_

_“Yes! The concert is in two weeks!”_

_“Wow, Napstablook in person. You’re the best!”_

The axe sunk into her should with a solid thump. Papyrus felt the impact all the way up his humerus as the blade found bone. She screamed, thrashing in an attempt to get away from him. He tugged on the handle, but the axe was stuck. Summoning a sharpened bone, he slid it into her chest, only for it to stop after a few inches, jarring his carpels. Oh right. He raised the bone again, letting go of the wooden handle of the axe to grip it with two hands.

“N-n-no, please, Papyr-,” he brought it down with all of his strength. There was a squelch, and he felt as it hit, then broke through, her sternum. Her pleas turned into a scream, which quickly cut off with a gurgle, thank the stars. Her hands shook, but still she clasped at the bone weakly, as if trying to remove it. Papyrus obliged, pulling up on the embedded bone. It didn’t budge. Instead her torso lifted a few inches off the ground, prompting a keen of distress from her. He released it, dropping her back to the ground with a splat. Gripping the end again, he pulled, twisting this time to dislodge it. With a loud crack, the bone splintered, leaving a long jagged shard embedded in her chest.

Papyrus dispelled the bone and stood. Blood oozed out of the wound, thick and dark. Humans were so….messy. Her struggling slowed, and finally she stilled. Bracing one foot against her chest, he pulled out his axe. It had made today go so much smoother, and he was loath to let it go quite yet, even though he was pretty sure he was finished. Papyrus pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, followed shortly by a lighter. He lit up as he started back to the kitchen to wash up, the axe tucked under one arm, but, as he passed the hallway to the bedrooms, Papyrus caught sight of him. His angel.

Sans was crouched over a dust pile, staring at it shakily. Papyrus paused to just take in the other skeleton for a moment. Sans cared so much about those filthy people, much more than they deserved. They bought his attention with gifts and tricked him into spending time with them when he wasn’t theirs. He was Papyrus’s. He would always be Papyrus’s, now that those distractions had been removed.

He stepped forward down the hallway, the soft sound of his slipper hitting the floor enough to draw Sans’s eyelights to him. That lovely light blue magic danced around, taking in his appearance. As Papyrus continued forward, Sans fell back onto his coccyx before scrambling backwards as best he could. Papyrus didn’t rush, though. He didn’t want to scare his sweet Sans. Besides, it wasn’t long before the smaller skeleton hit the wall at the end of the hallway.

Sans looked radiant, even with the filth's blood and dust on him. Papyrus couldn't help himself, and he didn’t have to. He discarded the axe to reach out and reverently caress that skull, the one that haunted his dreams and drove his fantasies. Sans flinched and yelled about those people, but Papyrus was patient with him.

Distractions gone, Sans finally confessed what Papyrus had always known had to be true. Soul strangely calm, he took the chance to profess his own love. The activities of the day had really left him feeling very fulfilled and relaxed. Stars, Papyrus had never been so happy as that moment.

When he pressed their mouths together, Papyrus marveled at the way Sans tasted, like nothing he had ever experienced before, tongue sweet and soft against his own. The smaller monster squirmed, and Papyrus steadied himself. His angel deserved nothing less than an experience as perfect as he was. Yes, yes, yes. That's what this day needed. He would take care of Sans and give him the pleasure that they both craved.

Sans seemed confused, but his body certainly wasn't. It responded readily to Papyrus's touch. Before long, Sans started to make the most precious little noises, his words often cut off so that a moan or a gasp could take its place.

The smaller skeleton slid slowly to the floor, protests dying out. Papyrus gazed down at his angel, where he lay panting and wanton on the floor. Finally, after so long, it was time to join to together with Sans, to claim him fully and be his in return.

The shorts came off easily enough, and were dropped to the side. Sans melted under Papyrus’s touch, and before long, he was ready. Papyrus didn't wait long enough to remove any more clothing. He couldn't wait. There would always be time later.

Sans gasped as Papyrus entered him, and, soon enough, those gasps to turned into moans. He kept trying to talk, and Papyrus admired his perseverance, but he made sure that the smaller skeleton couldn't get a word out between thrusts. Papyrus wasn't in much of a listening mood.

Stars, this was amazing. Sans was amazing. Papyrus had never been happier. He slowed down and checked with Sans, because really, this was all for him. Even as Sans pushed back into Papyrus, taking his cock even deeper, Sans questioned him, his devotion. Papyrus thrust harder, grunting as he felt Sans start to tighten around him.

He would just have to show Sans how much he loved him. He could convince the other monster, even if he had to show him over and over again. Even if it took the rest of their lives.


	3. Big Brother is so Proud of You - Swapcest, Manipulation, Underage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is very attached to Papyrus. He just wants to make sure Papyrus is even more attached to him. 
> 
> Warnings: Swapcest, incest, underage, manipulation, first time, painful sex, CreepBerry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asksanrustheskeleton said:  
> Can u do a swapest story pls if its not to much trouble and tgx for the fellcest story!
> 
> So instead of continuing in the same vein as SweetFell, I decided to go back to my true nature. Have some CreepBerry creepin’ on his brother. I hope you like it anyways!

“PAPY….YOU’RE DOING SO WELL….AH!” Sans rolled his hips forward, enjoying the little gagging noises Papyrus made as he caught him off guard. The taller monster didn't pull away, this time, and Sans made a mental note to do something nice for his brother.

Sans groaned as there was a tentative swallow around the head of his member. Stars, Papyrus really was getting better at this. Sans wouldn't last too much longer if he kept doing that thing with his tongue. He set his phalanges on Papyrus’s skull and indulged in a few more shallow thrusts before gently pushing his brother back. Papyrus fell onto his heels, tongue absently licking his teeth where orange and blue magic had leaked out. He waited for further instructions, sockets covered by Sans’s light blue bandanna.

“HOW DO YOU WANT TO DO IT, PAPY?” Sans asked, smiling down at his brother. Papyrus fidgeted, expression thoughtful, and then he blushed. He looked away and, as pointless as it was, the gesture was cute. He only hesitated for a moment before turning over onto his hands and knees, lowering his torso and presenting Sans with his light orange entrance. Sans was thrilled to see that his brother was aroused and juicy. The last few months had really payed off. Grinning, he spotted the perfect opportunity to let his brother know what a good job he was doing.

Moving off the couch, Sans summoned his tongue and slipped it into Papyrus without warning. He felt his brother’s body jerk and start to pull away, but Sans quickly took hold of his femurs to hold him still. He thrust the magic appendage in and out of Papyrus, the taller skeleton burying his skull against the carpet to muffle his moans.

It didn't take long for Sans’s enthusiastic and talented tongue to wrench an orgasm from Papyrus. Pulling back he watched as his brother shivered from the pleasure racing through him. Before the after shocks had ended, Sans hopped to his feet and sunk his member into Papyrus, all the way to the hilt. Papyrus cried out and clutched at the carpet as Sans began to thrust immediately. Sans groaned as he felt Papyrus shiver and jerk under him, his magic overwhelmed with sensation.

A a second orgasm followed shortly after, but Sans didn't let up, moving as hard as he could into the hot, tight magic as Papyrus clenched around him. Stars, it felt wonderful. Papyrus rocked and cried beneath him as his climax came and went, his magic now even more sensitive.

“Sans….please….no……I can't……nnn,” Papyrus’s low, husky voice was ragged from the use it had gotten so far. Sans didn't listen, though, sure that Papyrus had one more in him, if Sans could just hold on. He grit his teeth and fought back his own finish until he felt the first ripple of Papyrus’s magic. Pushing himself to go faster, Sans pressed deep into his brother, letting his orgasm wash over him as Papyrus screamed.

When normal senses returned, Sans slid out of Papyrus and dispelled his magic. The other monster collapsed sideways onto the carpet, Sans having been the only thing keeping his pelvis suspended. Slick magic oozed out of his opening, and Sans was quick to grab one of the towels he kept around the house for just such an occasion.

“UP,” he promoted, pulling slightly on Papyrus’s pelvis. The taller monster groaned, but complied, pelvis lifting high enough for the towel to be slid underneath. It fell heavily to the ground as soon as he removed his phalanges. Straightening, Sans walked over to kneel by his brother’s skull and remove the bandanna. It alway thrilled him to see the normally calm and collected monster in such a state and to know that he was the cause. Stroking his phalanges along Papyrus’s skull, he smiled down at the tears that still leaked from his brother’s sockets.

“GOOD JOB, PAPYRUS. BIG BROTHER IS SO PROUD OF YOU.”  
—————  
“sans, are you sad?” The question came completely out of the blue, startling Sans out of his thoughts as he worked on dinner. He looked over at Papyrus where he sat doing his homework. The younger skeleton was frowning and giving Sans an intense look. He forced a smile anyways.

“OF COURSE NOT! THE MAGNIFICENT SANS IS ALWAYS CHEERFUL AND HAPPY.” Papyrus didn’t look convinced. “WHAT WOULD EVER MAKE YOU THINK OTHERWISE, PAPY?”

The younger skeleton looked away, suddenly self-conscious. Sans had to admit his curiosity was piqued, but he didn’t press. The last thing he needed now was for Papyrus to shut down.

“i, uh, heard you crying, last night.” He finally muttered. Sans turned quickly back to the stove, thankful for the cooking food as an excuse to hide his blush. He mentally berated himself for his tendency to be…loud.

“W-WHAT WERE YOU DOING UP?” He asked, stirring the contents of the pan with a little more force than necessary.

“couldn’t sleep,” was the suddenly bland reply. Sans forgot his embarrassment, gripping the spatula with all of his strength at the thought of Papyrus thrashing in bed, calling out for a monster that wasn’t him. Counting down from ten, he calmed himself. When he unclenched his phalanges, he noticed that he had left indents in the handle.

“ANOTHER NIGHTMARE?” Sans asked, concern masking his darker emotions. “YOU SHOULD HAVE WOKEN ME, PAP.” He said it automatically, like he always did when Papyrus grew too worried about bothering him.

“I was going to,” Right. Sans could have slapped himself, if he were a violent monster, “but i heard you crying and i didn’t know what to do, so i went back to my room, sorry.” Sans glanced over his scapula to see that Papyrus looked appropriately miserable.

“I should have helped you, like you always help me,” Tears formed in his brother’s sockets. “I would do anything for you, Sans, but I was scared.”

“OH, PAPY, THAT’S SO SWEET OF YOU.” Sans beamed at him. “BUT I WASN’T CRYING. I WAS…,” he struggled to come up with an excuse for the noises he was making, without admitting what he was actually doing. “READING A FUNNY BOOK.”

“it didn’t sounds like laughing…” Papyrus looked confused.

“THAT’S…BECAUSE I WAS TRYING NOT TO LAUGH, SO I WOULDN’T WAKE YOU,” Sans said cheerfully. He hoped this worked. He was not ready to talk to Papyrus about those kinds of urges yet.

“Oh, okay,” Papyrus gave him a smile and then returned to his schoolwork. Sans breathed a sigh of relief and went back to cooking.   
—————  
“NGH,” Sans felt the impact of his spine against the tree dully, his entire body already far too occupied by the feeling of Papyrus. He didn’t let his little brother do this very often, so when he did, the normally lazy monster put his all into it, which Sans appreciated.

He gasped as Papyrus continued to drive in and out of him, fast and hard. He had his phalanges under Sans’s pelvis, supporting him against the tree as he made love to him. Papyrus was always careful with him. Sans’s legs were bent up, feet dangling in the air. Stars, he loved this.

Still, he reserved letting Papyrus top for when he needed it. He didn’t want to give his brother the idea that he could have Sans whenever he wanted. Besides, the hungry look on Papyrus’s face when Sans mentioned giving him a ‘special treat’ went straight to his pelvis.

“Sans…” Papyrus moaned his name, leaning forward to lather attention on his cervical vertebrae. Sans arched into him, enjoying the attention. He wasn’t used to being on this end of things, and his magic was extra sensative. His orgasm was building quickly. He wouldn’t last much longer, at the pace his brother was going.

“YES, PAPY, THERE!” Sans tried to keep his voice down as he cried out, but he was boisterous in this, as with everything. Papyrus tilted his pelvis up, his member slipping even deeper inside. They came together, skulls buried in each other’s clavicles to try and muffle their voices.

After a moment, Sans wriggled, prompting the taller monster to step back, pulling out, before slowly lowering him to the ground. Sans leaned back against the tree as he waited for his legs to start working properly again. Papyrus stood panting in front of him, quickly fastening his pants. He went and grabbed Sans’s pants from where they had been dropped.

“Come here,” Sans prompted, voice sweet as Papyrus handed him the garment. He gave Papyrus a deep kiss, assured that his brother would think of no one but him for the rest of the day. “You better get back to work.”  
—————  
For the past three months the younger monster had been withdrawn, despondent, practically. Papyrus had gone from being an enthusiastic, if somewhat shy, monster to his current state, well, not quite overnight. There had been a period where, Sans frowned at the memory, Papyrus would do nothing but cry and call for…he couldn't even remember the name. Sans had done everything he could to comfort his baby brother. He had soothed, cajoled and begged his brother to come out of it. Wasn’t Sans good enough? Who was this, this stranger whom Papyrus called out for when he slept?

Sans, only 14 himself, was patient. He did what he needed to, took care of Papyrus, and got them through that unpleasantness. When the episodes grew less frequent and eventually stopped, he found that his brother was changed. He went to school, did his homework, got top marks, even. He just didn't seem to be interested in much else. At home he would watch tv or sleep. He didn't have hobbies, or friends. He just didn’t care. There was only one exception. Sans himself.

Papyrus had latched onto Sans like a lifeline, which given how he had cared for the other, Sans only found fair. Papyrus visibly brightened when he caught sight of Sans after school, and that transformation never failed to brighten Sans’s day as well. Even Papyrus’s teachers would smile and tell him how his little brother bragged about him like he was the best monster in the underground. He would flush and deny that, but inside his soul was humming with pride and joy.

The teachers also confided in Sans that they were worried that Papyrus wasn’t socializing well. He didn’t get in any fights, and all the other kids seemed to like him well enough. He’d even talk to them, in his easy way, but Papyrus just wouldn’t make friends. Sans promised he would talk to Papyrus and try to find out what was going on. When he went home, he never did. They might be worried that his little brother would grow up without anyone in his life besides his older brother, but Sans wasn’t. Sans was counting on it.  
—————  
Sans contemplated the huge stack of papers. Humming happily to himself, he began to sort Papyrus’s mail. If he happened to look at the papers as he opened, what did it matter? His brother’s mailbox was always full to the brim, and while the good majority of the envelops were either ads or bills from Muffet, the odd correspondence would show up. Sans just wanted to protect Papyrus from those monsters who might try to take advantage of his easy attitude.

He picked up a pink envelope, handwritten and just too cute. With the barest hint of a frown he opened it. It was that damn bunny again. She was an unsavory sort, always hanging around Muffet’s and looking for the next monster to pay her tab. Well, Papyrus wasn’t going to be much good to here, there. He couldn’t even pay his own. Dropping it into the trash with the rest of the junk mail, Sans moved on to the next envelope.  
—————  
“Sans, I don’t know…” Papyrus clutched the bottom of his shirt, tugging it down hard enough that Sans could see the shape of his ribs through it.

“I JUST WANT TO TRY,” Sans pleaded, his eyelights widening slightly. “IT WILL MAKE ME FEEL GOOD, AND YOU TOO. LIKE THE OTHER NIGHT. WHAT COULD BE SO BAD ABOUT THAT?”

Papyrus’s brow bone lowered in thought, but he didn’t seem to have a reply. Sans waited, soul humming with excitement as he felt victory grown near.

“i don’t know. it just doesn’t feel right…” Papyrus repeated, and Sans could hear his voice grow thick with emotion. His brother was used to knowing everything, and grew frustrated easily when he didn’t.

“DON’T YOU TRUST ME, PAPY?” Papyrus looked hurt at the suggestion, his mouth opening to form a reply, but Sans didn’t give him a chance. “I’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU. NOTHING WILL GO WRONG.” Papyrus’s mouth shut slowly as he realized just what Sans had done. Instead of protesting any further, he just nodded, though his grip on his shirt tightened.

“GIVE IT A TRY, PAPY,” Sans reached out his phalanges to Papyrus, “FOR ME.” Sans saw the moment his brother’s resolved crumbled, his grip on his shirt releasing, the fabric bouncing up as he immediately gripped onto Sans instead.

Sans murmured comforting things while he undressed his brother, leaving him bare to Sans’s hungry gaze. Papyrus fidgeted, unsure what to do with himself. It was cute, but eventually Sans had to move forward. He touched Papyrus all over, poking, stroking, and even licking to see what his brother liked. When it seemed as though Papyrus was shivering too badly to stand, Sans laid him down on his bed.

Straddling his brother on his patella, Sans continued, his magic growing warm as Papyrus panted and moaned. He even squeaked when Sans surprised him by grabbing his pubis roughly. The touch also made him arch off the bed, as if reaching the bone towards Sans’s own. Before long, they both sported their members, Sans’s a light blue and Papyrus’s golden orange.

They rubbed those together, and it felt amazing, but Sans had a fantastic thought. He pulled away as their movements grew more frantic, not wanting to loose his chance. Papyrus whined as their magic broke contact.

“sans,” he whimpered, thrusting up mindlessly in an attempt to maintain contact.

“JUST A SECOND, PAPY, I WANT YOU TO TRY SOMETHING.” Sans stroked his brother’s skull. “I WANT YOU TO MAKE A HOLE, HERE,” Sans poked just below the pelvic inlet. Papyrus moaned and pressed into the contact, but Sans pulled away.

“sans, please, i can’t…” Papyrus whined, “just a little more.”

“YOU CAN, I BELIEVE IN YOU!” Sans rubbed a phalanx against the magical flesh again, where he wanted Papyrus to make the entrance he had seen in his book. It took another few minutes before Papyrus began to focus and mold his magic, but Sans was patient.

The end result was surprisingly similar to the picture, despite Papyrus not seeing it. Sans wondered if, like their members, their magic just knew what to do.

“PAPY, IT’S BEAUTIFUL,” Sans praised, running his phalanx along the folds of magical flesh. Papyrus jerked his hips and gasped in response. Sans played with it a little more, even slipping a couple of digits inside. It was wet and slimy, which surprised him. He couldn’t resist moving on, though, excited to try it out.

He sat up , bringing Papyrus’s patella with him, over his scapula, and lined him member up with the hole.

“sans, what?” Papyrus asked softly.

“JUST RELAX,” Sans slid into the wet hole slowly, or he tried to. It felt so good, and he just couldn’t help but thrust a little harder as he felt his progress impeded by Papyrus’s tight walls. Papyrus wailed, pelvis trying to jerk away.

“it hurts!” he cried, tears flowing from his sockets. Fully inside him now, Sans leaned down and brushed them away.

“IT’S OKAY PAPY, IT WILL STOP HURTING. YOU’LL FEEL SO GOOD. TRUST ME.”  
—————  
Sans pushed into Muffet’s to a chorus of monsters heckling Papyrus for making his ‘poor brother’ come and get him once again. Sans frowned at the friendly way the sentries, barflies, and everyone in between talked to his brother. He hated that Papyrus spent his time here, with them. They, of course, thought he was frowning at his brother’s drinking habits. They always did, and Sans was happy to keep the illusion going, berating his brother loudly for his over consumption of honey and failure to return home. He shouldn’t be such a bother to everyone, but Sans would take care of everything. Like he always did.

Drunk themselves, the other patrons of the bar joined in, backing Sans up in teasing tones. Muffet even chimed in with a comment about his tab. Papyrus smiled through it all, like he always did, but Sans could see the way his scapulae slumped a little more with each jibe. He didn’t stop them, though.

As he helped his brother out into the snow, Sans could feel him shaking slightly. He didn’t comment, letting silence carry them home. Once inside, he busied himself with fetching some tea and tacos for his brother, to help take the edge off.

“do…do they really dislike me that much?” Papyrus asked from where he had collapsed on the couch. Sans paused, thinking through his answer before he stepped out of the kitchen to face him.

“HOW COULD ANYONE DISLIKE YOU, PAPY?” He asked, voice full of surprise. “THEY WERE…HARSH, BUT I WOULDN’T PAY ANY MIND TO WHAT A BUNCH OF DRUNKS SAY. IT’S NOT LIKE ANY OF THEM ARE YOUR FRIENDS, REALLY.” Papyrus lifted his skull to look up at Sans sadly. Walking over to crouch besides the couch and stroking his brother’s skull fondly, Sans gave him a big grin.

“I THINK YOU’RE THE BEST! WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS?” Papyrus gave him a weak smile before accepting Sans’s kiss readily.   
—————  
“…an…, san…., sans….” The urgent whispers and gentle shaking slowly woke Sans. He looked around the room twice before spotting the vague shape of Papyrus in the dark.

“PAPY?” He asked, groggily. Sitting up, he rubbed at his sockets. “NIGHTMARE?”

He could hear the soft sound of fabric sliding together as his brother shifted. A soft tapping noise started up, and Sans knew his brother was fiddling with his phalanges. He grabbed the top edge of the blanket, ready to lift it when he got a reply.

“no, i mean, i don’t think so,” Papyrus sounded nervous. Sans shook off the dredges of sleep, concern speeding the process.

“What’s going on?” He lifted the blanket, but instead of getting up, he use the other set of phalanges to pat the bed. He didn’t care that Papyrus was now taller than him, his growth spurt showing no signs of stopping. He would always be Papyrus’s big brother, ready to take care of him.

Papyrus hesitated, but got in the bed, slipping under the covers to sit besides Sans. He was wearing his honeybee pajamas, which Sans had been so proud to find at the dump. Sadly, he would outgrow them soon, and Sans could feel how tight the top was across his brother’s scapulae as he pulled him in for a hug.

“Tell me, Papy, so I can help,” He murmured soothingly, mindful of the way his brother sat stiff in his arms. Gently, he began to massage his brother’s spine, but that only seemed to make him more tense. Sans frowned where his skull was hidden against Papyrus’s clavicle.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Papyrus whimpered, and Sans’s alarm grew. His brother, rarely sounded so uncertain, and even less frequently got this worked.

“THAT’S OKAY, WE’LL FIGURE IT OUT,” Sans soothed, phalanges continuing to work. “TELL ME WHAT YOU DO KNOW.”

“m-my bones, they feel, well, they feel hot,” Papyrus began to shake, “especially….i can’t, sans. it’s embarassing...”

Sans already had an inkling of what was going on, so he began to pull Papyrus to lay down. The taller monster followed after a moment’s resistance, and they ended up laying down, Sans still wrapped around Papyrus.

“IT’S OKAY, PAPY,” Sans talked as he adjusted them until Papyrus was on his side and he was curled up against his back. “I’VE GOT YOU.”

Once they were settled, he began to move his phalanges again, stroking Papyrus’s ribs, making him gasp at the sudden touch. “s-sans, what-mmm.” Sans smiled against his brother’s skull and kept silent, his hands slipping under the faded t-shirt to play more directly with the sensitive bones there. Papyrus didn’t ask again, but then, he seemed somewhat overwhelmed by the sensations. He brought his phalanges up to his skull, muffling a whole host of moans, gasps, and groans. His shivering only increased, rubbing his body delicately against Sans’s.

When he moved lower, stroking Papyrus’s lumbar spine and teasing the top edges of his iliac crests, the sounds grew louder, though they were still stubbornly muffled. Sans didn’t push, though. Whatever made Papyrus more comfortable.

“There, doesn’t that feel good?” Sans whispered, massaging the crests, his phalanges dipping lower and lower. He felt Papyrus jerkily nod his head at the same time his pelvis ground back against Sans slightly. It had been bad enough, listing to his brother’s lewd noises, now Sans felt his own bones heat. He ground back, experimentally, to find that Papyrus made a sort of half gasp and immediately returned the pressure. Sans massaged his way down the ilium, keeping his touch light along the edge of the pelvic inlet. Nonetheless, Papyrus let out a sharp cry at the first touch that wandered there.

Sans kept one hand on Papyrus’s pubis while the other shifted around to the back to tease his sacrum and coccyx. The cry from that was even louder and Sans felt his brother try to shift away, but before he could, he brought one arm up to encircle his ribs.

“SSSSH, IT’S OKAY,” he jerked Papyrus’s coccyx, clinging to the trembling mess that was his brother. “I KNOW IT’S A LOT, BUT THIS WILL FEEL SO GOOD, PAPY.” One warm pulse of magic was the only warning he got, and then his phalanges encountered the soft mass of Papyrus’s manifested flesh. He stroked along it, prompting a whimper from the other monster.

“sans….what…?” Papyrus removed his phalanges from his jaw, his voice cracking over the words in a way that Sans found just adorable.

“LATER. THIS IS FINE. JUST LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU. YOU’LL FEEL SO MUCH BETTER AFTERWARDS,” Sans grasped Papyrus’s member and gave it squeeze. Papyrus moaned loudly and thrust his pelvis forward. Grinning, Sans stroked it, enjoying the way Papyrus shook as he tried not to thrust any more, as though he thought it might offend him. A series of half aborted movements followed as Papyrus’s needs fought with his self-control. Sans kept his pace slow and his touch soft until he felt the movements grow more desperate.

When he sped up, Papyrus yelped, and Sans felt the pillow shift under his skull. It didn’t take long, as he had expected. His own first time hadn’t been near this drawn out, having rubbed himself against this very pillow with no control whatsoever. Papyrus, however, benefited from his big brother’s experience and soon was coming with a loud shout and several sharp, jerky thrusts. Sans held him through it, phalanges never stilling. When he was done, Papyrus slumped, worn out by the new experience.

“BETTER?” Sans asked. Once again he felt a nod. Sans contemplated having Papyrus help him out in turn, but refrained. His brother was already completely overwhelmed. He would just have him return the favor later. “GOOD. GETS SOME REST.” Instead he stroked gentle patterns against Papyrus’s skull until his breathing went from rough and ragged, with the occasional sniffle, to slow and even. Just as he was about sure that his brother had faded into sleep, he shifted slightly.

“thank you, sans,”

“OF COURSE. I’LL ALWAYS TAKE CARE OF YOU.”


	4. Mating Season - Cherryberry - Rape, Oviposition, Bestiality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue lamia using Red as a mate and Lyco suggested Blue making Red carry the eggs, which was <3 and this ended up a lot longer than usual. 
> 
> Warnings: Noncon/Rape, Hypnosis, Oviposition, Bestiality, Body Modification

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A drabble that got out of control in part thanks to Lyco ([Tumblr](http://nom-the-skel.tumblr.com/)|[AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny)), who drew some amazing art to go with it!!

Sans was distracted from trying to free his left leg from the ever-present coils of the lamia by movement. He was filthy, tired, and he wanted to go home. At least the damn thing couldn’t keep him under its spell while it slept. It did, however, have enough instinct to wrap him in its body during those times. He was almost free, but his captor was starting to move.

The lamia lifted its torso and stretched its arms. It was slow to get moving, usually, since it needed the warmth from the sun to heat its body. Sans might be able to get free before it could follow him.

“There!” He pulled his leg out from the coils and prepared himself to jump down from the huge pile of tail. Hands grabbed him before he had the chance. Sans panicked, thrashing in its hold. It only used its hands when it was going to breed with him, which it had done repeatedly since bringing Sans back to its burrow. It wasn’t a natural pairing, and the lamia exerted a lot of force with its muscular tail. He had only been able to make this attempt because he had gotten several days without such treatment. It was all lost if it did that now.

The lamia stuck its skull down by Sans’s pelvis, blue eyelights intent on something. Its forked tongue tickled the bone, making Sans wriggle.

“Stop that you stupid creature,” Sans grumbled, kicking his legs. The lamia didn’t listen, moving close and smelling his pelvic inlet. When it lifted its skull, its eyelights were wide. Sans felt his body start to relax almost immediately. “Oh god…damn…”

He fell into the stupor that the lamia used to control him, his body starting to behave against his will. Except, instead of the strange genitalia it usually made him form, his body made something more along the lines of a human cunt attached to a sack of magic that sat between his ribs and pelvis.

“Wha…?” Sans muttered, but of course the lamia didn’t reply. It started to uncoil itself to free the end of its tail and press its opening against his.

Nothing happened at first. Then the lamia started to wriggle against him, the tail pulsing with movement from inside. Sans was perplexed up until something touched the magic around his pelvis. The texture was smooth, but he felt it give as it began to penetrate him. It narrowed until it fit easily and slid in through his magic to the sack. As soon as it was done, another pressed against him.

Summoning the last of his own willpower, Sans tilted his eyelights down. A splotch of white floated in the sack, unmoving. While he pondered what it was, the next was pushed through. It joined the first, then another and another. Fuck, were those…eggs? Sans panicked again, trapped within his complacent body.

The lamia didn’t show any signs of stopping. Egg after egg was deposited into his body, slowly filling the sack. Sans got worried as it reached capacity, but it swelled to fit more. It caused an uncomfortable stretching sensation, and magic was starting to get sore, too. Even though the eggs were soft, the constant repetition was wearing it out. How was he ever going to escape like this?

The eggs eventually slowed down, thankfully. Sans felt like he was to the point of bursting, but it never happened. His magic happily accommodated the lamia’s eggs by ballooning out. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to walk even if the damn thing released him from its hold. Not that he got a chance to try.

When the last of the contractions ended and the final egg had seated itself within his body, the lamia drew its tail back and began to sluggishly coil up, with him at the center. It seemed to have some instinct that he couldn’t flee, or maybe it was just wary of crushing the eggs, because it didn’t actually wrap around him. It made its body into a kind of nest, placing him in the center. As soon as he was settled it smiled down at him, its hands reaching out to rub over the aching magic of the sack.

Sans wanted to shove it away. He wasn’t ready to be treated like the lamia’s mate or some shit. All he could manage to do, however, was pass out.


	5. The Way You Make Me Smile - Ketchupberry Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt from Lyco
> 
> ‘it’s an uncommon ship but i think they’d both see their papyruses in each other and be like, “i like you because you’re like my brother except not! is that weird?"’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble that got kinda long. Maybe not in onshot territory really, but it don't belong in small bites. So here it be. Have some therapy fluff. <3 Hope you enjoy!

“You’re as bad as Papy, you know that, right?” Blue was having trouble keeping his expression straight. He wanted to glare, but his stupid mouth kept twitching upwards in reaction to the pun.

“Oh no,” Sans fake gasped, and Blue could see his grin through his hands as he brought them up, as though scandalized. “I can’t let that stand. I’ll have to find a way to get back into your good graces.”

Blue conquered his smile and gave Sans the full force of his glare. He put on a properly contrite look in response, but Blue wasn’t fooled. Sans was still smiling slightly.

“Don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” Blue warned, crossing his arms.

“Aw, come on,” Sans scooted closer to Blue on the couch. Their pants were brushing now, and Blue felt his face warm slightly. That was not the reaction Sans’s behavior deserved.

“You know I can’t help it. Puns are a part of who I am. You could say they’re in my bones.”

“Saaaans,” Blue whined, unable to moderate his reaction to this latest truly awful pun. Sans, laughing at his own bad joke, leaned in and hugged Blue, crushing their bodies together haphazardly. Blue could feel the thick jacket Sans wore cushion what would have probably been some painful meeting of bones. A little of his warmth was peeking through the fabric, which Blue blamed for how hot he suddenly felt.

“Sorry, sorry, your reactions are just so cute. You and Papyrus are just too much fun.” Sans said against Blue’s skull.

Blue sobered a little at the mention of Sans’s brother.

“Sans, about that, about why you- we…” Blue looked down past Sans’s blue sleeve to the floor. “You always compare me to him. Is that why you… and me…?”

Sans’s grip stiffened, but he didn’t release Blue. He actually pulled him closer, leaning back so he was sprawled against the arm of the couch, Blue tucked up against him. It was a familiar position and Blue found himself settling into it despite his reservations.

“Kind of,” Sans sighed, lifting and lowering Blue slightly with the breath, “but not like you might be thinking. Yeah, you remind me of Papyrus. I get the feeling I remind you of Stretch, too.” Blue flushed at the, entirely too accurate, observation.

“But I’m not using you as some kind of… substitute.” Sans rubbed Blue’s back gently. “Just like Papyrus, you make me… happy,” Sans continued with a touch of wonder in his voice. “And in some ways that he doesn’t, as well.”

A soft kiss brushed across the top of Blue’s skull. Blue smiled into Sans’s chest, giving in to a full-faced flush. He was relieved to hear that. Sometimes it felt like he was in the shadow of Sans’s brother, who he idolized so much. He felt insecure and uncertain about San’s affections. Wrapping his arms around Sans, Blue turned his skull so his mouth was free.

“Yeah, you are a lot like Papy,” he admitted, “and it’s kind of the same for me.”

Sans laughed, squeezing Blue. A firmer kiss followed the first one, and when Blue tilted his skull up he got one on the teeth too.

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Sans asked. Blue giggled. Being open with Sans made him feel so much better, like maybe this could work. He smiled and kissed Sans back.


	6. Papby - Eggs, Sans has a pouch, I can't explain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I have no way of explaining this. 
> 
> HUGE Thank you to Lyco ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny)|[Tumblr](http://nom-the-skel.tumblr.com/)) for the art!

“Sans…” Papyrus knocked on his door, his voice weak, and maybe a little queasy. Soul tightening with worry, Sans awkwardly rolled off his mattress and clambered to his feet. He opened the door to Papyrus sweating and leaning against the door frame. Sans’s eyelights snapped down to under his ribs where a mostly transparent sack of magic held a small collection of red spheres. It was glowing orange, the light brightening and fading like it was throbbing.

  
  
“Oh fuck,” Sans reached out and grabbed Papyrus’s arms, pulling him into his room and leading him towards his mattress. “You shouldn’t be up.”  
  
“Don’t curse… in front of the babies,” Papyrus responded weakly, but he let himself be led. He laid back on the mattress with a grateful sigh and no comments about the cleanliness of the space. Something was definitely wrong.  
  
“Tell me how you feel,” Sans ignored his scolding and ran his hand along the swollen sack. It felt warm to the touch, much warmer than it had previously. “I should call Grillby,” he muttered to himself.  
  
“No!” Papyrus was unexpectedly sharp. Sans couldn’t imagine why Papyrus wouldn’t want his boyfriend here, now, of all times. “I’m fine… I’m fine…” He betrayed himself by immediately groaning in pain.  
  
“Obviously,” Sans said with a hint of sarcasm and a lot of worry.  
  
“I am!” Papyrus insisted. “They’re just… trying to come out.”  
  
Sans stared blankly at the bundle of eggs. Come out? It was time for Papyrus to lay them? He tried to remember what that meant, from the hours of lectures Papyrus had provided him over the preceding weeks.  
  
“Then we really need Grillby!” Sans went to stand. Once the eggs were laid, Grillby needed to keep them warm with his fire magic until they hatched. Papyrus stopped him, grabbing his arm with both hands in a desperate motion.  
  
“It’s a blizzard out there,” he gasped, and Sans saw a tear in his socket. “If Grillby goes out in that…”  
  
Right, snow was water, and as soon as it reached the aura of heat Grillby put off it would melt, peppering him with it. It would hurt, but Sans was pretty sure that he would want to be here for this. Even if it meant going through the snow.  
  
“Sans,” Papyrus whined, breaking through his thoughts. “They’re coming. They’re coming. I need somewhere to put them. They’ll freeze.” He started to franticly pull his shorts down, Sans quickly averting his sockets. It was shocking to hear something so bleak from his ever optimistic brother. Sans knew that Papyrus had been anxious about the pregnancy, but this was a whole different level.  
  
“They won’t. We’re going to take care of them,” he tried to soothe Papyrus, the change in roles disconcerting. “We can… “ Sans looked around the room, but there was nothing useful at hand. Just dirty laundry and crumpled papers, a treadmill, and a few stray ketchup bottles. Nothing that could help them take care of a… clutch?- of monster eggs.  
  
“Ah!” Papyrus suddenly cried out, and Sans had to look back. Papyrus was scrunched up as he held his hands below his pelvis to catch the first egg to slip free. “Oh no oh no oh no…” he started to whine breathlessly. Sans started to tear up, Papyrus’s distress getting to him. He couldn’t let his little brother go through this alone.  
  
“Here, I can… I can…” Sans gently held his hands under the egg, letting Papyrus relax and lay back with a tired huff. Which left Sans with a very hot egg in his hands. He had thought Papyrus was being paranoid, but it was rapidly cooling. “I can…” he muttered, piecing together a probably not all that great plan. Still, it was a plan.

  
  
“I got it, bro,” Sans pat Papyrus’s leg absently while he focused on making his own sack of magic to house the eggs in. It appeared in a flash of blue, the extra flesh meant to hold the eggs sagging slightly as it formed. He pulled on the top edge, opening the pocket of flesh and tucking the egg inside. It nestled at the bottom, his magic snug around it. Sans focused, pulling from his deep reserves of magic, to make the flesh put off heat. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be used, but it worked, and he started to feel a little feverish.  
  
Papyrus crying out let him know that the second egg had arrived. He snatched it up, putting it next to the other one. Papyrus hardly seemed aware of what was going on, his sockets pointed at the ceiling as egg after egg popped out of him. Sans didn’t say anything to distract him from the hard labor of laying them, focusing on putting them in the pouch and keeping it warm.  
  
By the end, Sans was sweating. He had ditched his hoodie in an attempt to stay cooler, but when the heat was coming from his own body it wasn’t going to help much. The outer flap of his magical flesh was stretched outward, the surface a little lumpy from the eggs. Papyrus was panting on the mattress, but his breathing was slowing, and Sans hoped he was going to get some rest after all that. He glanced at the window, but the snow was still falling in thick flakes. He could barely see the tree just outside his room.

  
  
“My eggs!” Papyrus was feeling the bed under his pelvis anxiously.  
  
“They’re fine, bro!” Sans grabbed Papyrus’s arm and led his hand to the pouch. He silently felt along it for a moment before actually looking at Sans.  
  
“They’re… so warm,” he said softly, and the tears in his sockets became more pronounced. He broke out in a big grin, however, so Sans relaxed. He had been afraid he’d done something wrong. “Sans…” Papyrus laid back on the bed. “I’m going to be a dad soon.” He whispered.  
  
“The best dad in the whole world,” Sans smiled back at him, feeling himself start to choke up. “Now that Grillby won’t be rushing over here in panicked, we should give him the happy news.” Papyrus just nodded, pulling out his phone and holding down speed dial. The silence while he waited for it to ring was tense, but finally Sans heard the muffled sound of a voice against Papyrus’s skull.  
  
“Hey!” Papyrus was beaming. “I, uh, well the thing is…” He suddenly trailed off, a shy blush blazing across his cheeks. Sans looked away, the most privacy he could give them while still keeping an eye on Papyrus’s condition. He didn’t feel too much like moving anyways. His magic was heating his bones uncomfortably, and he felt a little sick.  
  
“Theeggsarehere,” Papyrus suddenly burst out, talking so fast that Grillby probably didn’t understand him. Sans could feel the silence from the phone, and then a flurry of muffled talking that he couldn’t understand.  
  
“They’re fine. Sans is taking care of them.”  
  
“I’m fine. Sans took care of me.”  
  
“He made a… pouch out of magic and is keeping them warm.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“… oh.” That didn’t sound good. Sans peeked over his shoulder. Papyrus looked embarrassed, and he was looking at Sans. “No, no,” Grillby suddenly reclaimed his attention. “You stay there until this snow dies down. They’ll be fine.” He paused while Grillby spoke again.  
  
“I love you too,” he said finally, and hung up the phone.  
  
“What did he say?” Sans asked, curious about the odd pause in the middle of their conversation.  
  
“He said,” Papyrus looked away from Sans, flustered. “He said we could have just used the stove.”  
  
Oh.


	7. A Very Touching Story - Anxiety attacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Haephephobia, anxiety attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE Thank you to Lyco ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny)|[Tumblr](http://nom-the-skel.tumblr.com/)) for the art!

Finding other universes was cool, Sans supposed. He was interested in all the weird differences between them. As a scientist he was fascinated with the mechanics of all these branching paths. He had even found a few monsters to hang out with that shared his sense of humor and love of condiments.  
  
That was nice.  
  
“I’m the Magnificent Sans, nice to meet you!”

  
  
Sans felt the arms close around his neck, and it was like a vice had snapped shut around it, squeezing the air out of him. He gasped, his hands raising to push the other monster off of him, but they only made it half way before fear paralyzed him. He was gasping for air, his world shrinking down to nothing but the feeling of bony arms pressing into his shoulders and the agonizing pressure of another body against his. He needed to break free, but he couldn’t move. Oh god, he wasn’t going to be able to tell them to stop. If he could just gather his wits long enough to teleport, he could-  
  
The weight of the other monster suddenly left him, though his bones buzzed wherever they had been touching. He felt his knees weaken, but there was nothing he could do to keep them from buckling, sending him to the floor. The impact jarred him enough to bring back his other senses, and suddenly he was aware of a lot of noise and movement.  
  
“Well maybe you should teach your brother some fucking manners, then!” Papyrus was yelling. He was standing over Sans, holding the other Sans by his weird bandanna neck thing. The smaller monster was kicking slightly, tears trickling down from his sockets. He was gazing at Sans with this pitiful look that just made Sans feel worse for being so fucking weak.

  
  
“Will you watch your language? And Put. Sans. Down.” The other version of his brother looked pissed as hell, hints of magic trailing from his left socket. It was this weird yellow orange color, and Sans felt like he should care about it more than he did. Rational thought was only coming back in fits and starts.  
  
“This is probably just what he needs,” Papyrus sneered, giving the Sans a shake. The honey magic grew stronger, wisping upwards like flames. Sans frowned, that looked just like-  
  
“Oh fuck, put ‘im down, bro,” Sans rasped, his voice finally working. He wasn’t in any shape to fight yet, and he’d be damned before he let Papyrus go fight them alone. Especially over him and his weakness.  
  
“Sans!” Papyrus looked down finally, and after a moment of taking in his condition, dropped the other Sans. Instead of running away, that Sans kept looking at them, leaving it up to his brother to run forward and embrace him like they were long lost or some shit. Sans shivered at the sight of long arms wrapping around the small body, enveloping it.  
—  
“Come on, Red,” Blue whined at him, bouncing on his feet like he did when he was antsy. Blue was almost always antsy. All it did was make Sans tense up, worried that one bounce would turn into a launch, sending Blue flying towards him again.  
  
“No,” Sans growled, taking a step back and crossing his arms. Blue pouted at him, stilling at last. He fixed Sans with an intense look full of scrutiny. Sans hated that look.  
  
“Just one finger,” Blue whined, taking a step forward to make up for the one Sans had taken away. “Surely one finger won’t be that bad.”  
  
Sans grimaced. One finger sounded fucking awful. He rubbed his arms, just imagining one of Blue’s digits touching them sending magic crawling up and down the bones.  
  
“Could you not?” he grumbled, looking down at the snow. “Why the fuck are you so insistent? I’m just bone. You know what bone feels like.”  
  
Blue’s expression transformed into one of blatant patience, and Sans knew he was holding back a comment about his language. Which was annoying because Sans wasn’t some child that needed Blue to be patient with him while he threw a tantrum. That was exactly the feeling he got from the situation nonetheless.  
  
“It’s not about me,” Blue explained slowly, like somehow Sans wasn’t going to get it otherwise. Hanging out with Blue was fine up until he became a patronizing dick. Even worse, he didn’t mean to be. It was all done with perfect sincerity.  
  
“You need to practice being touched, and then you’ll get more comfortable with it.”  
  
Sans’s soul sank. Nope. Nope. He did not want to do that. That was not a thing he needed or wanted. Blue meant well, but there was nothing that Sans wanted less than to do that.  
  
“I’ll pass. I’m fine with things like this,” he responded, moving back a little more when it seemed like Blue was too close.  
  
“What? How can you be fine?” Blue gasped, and Sans saw him tear up a little. For fuck’s sake. Blue seemed to think that Sans’s aversion to contact with others was somehow the worst possible thing. “You can’t even enjoy hugs.”  
  
“So?” Sans snapped, memories of their first disastrous meeting were not helping his mood. Why would he want to like hugs? They were tight and hot and way, way too physical.  
  
“Hugs are the best!” Blue said, getting that dreamy look in his sockets that said he was about to go off on a long spiel about them. Blue and Stretch hugged constantly. They didn’t seem to care who saw, either, which meant Sans had sit there uncomfortably while they damn near cuddled, swapping brotherly endearments. He felt sick just thinking about it.  
  
“Don’t you want to be able to give Edge a hug someday?” Blue asked instead.  
  
“I said no,” Sans snarled before turning back towards home and stomping away from the other him, who wasn’t weak and broken.  
—  
Sans hovered around the kitchen anxiously. He should wait until Papyrus was done with dinner, at least. This was a terrible idea. He should just go back to his room and pretend like he had never had it. He paced back and forth from the kitchen doorway to about halfway to the stairs, the nagging feeling that it was something he should do making him turn back each time.  
  
“Sans?” Papyrus finally stepped out of the kitchen, on his way to sit down and watch his drama. He stopped when he saw Sans, who also stopped because he hadn’t run away when he had the chance and now he had to do it. Fuck.  
  
“Hey… bro…” Sans greeted him, feeling awkward. Because of course he didn’t need to do that, they had both been home for a few hours and had seen each other several times. Papyrus’s brow bones dropped and he tilted his skull at Sans.  
  
“Um, I was wondering if, you know, because of me being… me, you feel like you’re… missing something,” he rambled, hands fidgeting nervously in front of his rib cage. Papyrus only looked more confused at that. “Ya know, family things, like… h- hugging.”  
  
“Oh,” Papyrus paused, his face going through a few contortions before he shook his skull. “No, no I don’t need anything like that. What’s gotten into you, Sans?” He turned away, like he was going to go back to the kitchen, but Sans caught a hint of longing before he was facing away. Oh shit. He really did want to, and Sans… Sans had denied his little brother this simple thing.  
  
“We can do it!” he shouted suddenly, and he saw Papyrus jump. He turned back to Sans, clearly surprised.  
  
“No, Sans, your… condition,” he held up his hands, eyelights looking to the side before back at Sans. He meant Sans’s weakness.  
  
“I can!” Sans insisted, trying not to shake. He lifted his arms, reaching for Papyrus. After a moment of hesitation, Papyrus reached back, kneeling down so that their heights were more closely aligned. Oh god, they were going to do this. He was going to do this. For Papyrus. Reminding himself of that, Sans let Papyrus’s arms move past his skull, one laying softly across his shoulders and one hand landing on the back of his skull.

  
  
Taking deep breaths to keep himself calm he curled his arms around Papyrus’s ribs, only barely flinching as he felt the hard body under them. This was fine. He was fine. He could manage this. It was Papyrus.  
  
He was safe with Papyrus.  
  
It was fine.  
  
He was safe.  
  
He could…  
  
He…  
  
He couldn’t. Everywhere their bodies touched was on fire from the nerves rejecting the sensation. His legs were trembling, his knees all but knocking from the fear. He gasped, rib cage tight and soul throbbing anxiously. His hands clutched at Papyrus’s shirt to resist the urge to pull them away. To pull away from Papyrus and push him so that the connection ended that much faster. He shouldn’t do that to Papyrus. What kind of brother was he?  
  
A failure, that’s what. He couldn’t show Papyrus the easy affection Blue showed to his brother. He couldn’t give Papyrus the brotherly attention he clearly wanted. It wasn’t fair. Why was he like this?  
  
“Sans!” Papyrus released him, stepping well away and snapping his hands to his sides. “You’re shaking. This was a bad idea,” he sounded worried, panicked even. And guilty. Papyrus thought that this was his fault. Sans wanted to tell him it wasn’t. It was Sans’s fault and he was sorry for being such a disappointment of a brother.  
  
But when he opened his mouth, all he could do was sob.


	8. Love Nibbles - Biting, Blood, Bondage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swapfellcest, Sans/Papyrus/Muffet, Bondage, Biting, Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE Thank you to Lyco ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny)|[Tumblr](http://nom-the-skel.tumblr.com/)) for the art!

“Muffin delivery,” Muffet sang out as she sauntered into the house, all dressed up in a frilly black dress, spider web stockings, and wickedly sharp heels. She even had a lace trimmed, hooded cape. An Innocent looking basket with a towel tucked over the contents hung from one of her arms, ostensibly full of muffins to the uninformed.  
  
Papyrus knew better.  
  
While Sans led Muffet into the house, Papyrus was bound to the couch, or kind of above it. His arms were held above his head and spread to their limit by straps that went to the top of the couch. His legs were similarly tied spread open to points on the floor where Sans had him install small hooks. It would have been pretty comfortable if he had been able to sit down, but Sans had stuffed all the pillows they had behind his spine, making him stretch out, arched above the couch.  
  
He had craned his skull up to watch Muffet arrive, and he was rewarded for the growing pain in his neck by her eyes sweeping over him appreciatively, a small smile lifting one fang above the other.  
  
“Oh my, you are always so prepared, love,” she purred at Sans, leaning down to give him a kiss. Papyrus had to strain his vertebrae a little more to watch. He wiggled his phalanges, eager to enjoy their attention as well. Sans must have noticed because he drew out the kiss, very obviously slipping his tongue into Muffet’s mouth.  
  
She eventually broke it, straightening from the crouch she’d had to hold to match Sans’s height and walked over to the table by the couch. She set the basket down and flicked the towel out of the way to reveal, to his surprise, actual muffins. Three of them sat nestled together in another towel to separate them from a couple of glass bottles. One was clearly cider, but the other was unmarked. That was the one she pulled out first.  
  
“What have you two been scheming?” he asked, risking a punishment- that he would honestly probably enjoy. Muffet just smirked at him and set the bottle in the corner of the couch, in easy reach.  
  
“Who said you could ask questions?” Sans barked, however, stalking forward to hopefully deliver that delicious punishment. Muffet stopped him with a gentle hand on his ribs. She leaned down and whispered something to him, following it up with a lick along the side of his skull. Sans visibly shivered and his severe look softened for a second. “Very well,” he murmured, still clearly audible.  
  
Muffet clapped her hands and went back to getting ready for whatever was going on. Her hood was pushed back and heels removed, left beside the couch neatly. When she was finally done and turned to Papyrus fully his soul trembled, from fear and anticipation. As if she could read it on his face, she broke the eye contact and walked back to Sans. She nudged him between Papyrus’s spread legs before finally stepping up to the couch, kneeling on it to reach his skull.  
  
“Mm!” Papyrus got his kiss with all the viciousness that always lived just below the surface of Muffet’s cute demeanor. His mouth was ravaged, and when he tried to reciprocate, she nipped at his tongue, drawing her fangs along it threateningly. He moaned, pressing harder, trying to get her to make good on it, but she withdrew, licking along her lips and over the two fangs seductively. Papyrus whimpered, but knew better to ask for it. She would tease him with it mercilessly if he did.  
  
Sans had settled himself along Papyrus’s body, their pelvises just about meeting as he all but laid on Papyrus. He ran his tongue along Papyrus’s floating ribs, flicking it off the end of one and bringing it up to his xiphoid process. He lathered that with attention for a second before all but taking it into his mouth. Papyrus tensed, preparing for the overstimulating feel of having it sucked on, but Sans didn’t. Instead, he closed his mouth over the bone, his teeth sinking into Papyrus’s sternum and a few ribs.  
  
“Ah!” Papyrus jerked involuntarily, pain blossoming from each site where a sharp tooth cut into his bones. His soul pounded, forcing magic and marrow to the wounds. He could feel the pressure of it pushing past Sans’s teeth and the tickle as it dribbled down his sternum. Sans opened his mouth, letting the marrow flow freely. The pain sharpened, focused on the actual punctures. Muffet ran a hand down the side of his skull soothingly as he groaned in pain.  
  
“Safeword?” she whispered, rubbing her nose against the other side of his skull. Papyrus fought to catch his breath to answer her.  
  
“Green,” he moaned, “Fuckin’ green.” Sans immediately came back, licking at the trails of marrow and up to the punctures on the front of his ribs. His tongue rubbed along them, more pain prickling through his bones. Muffet smiled at him, her lips drawing back to show more of the wicked fangs that he had been craving. Papyrus threw his skull back, offering himself to her.  
  
She obliged, her fangs thin and sharp in comparison to Sans’s broad, saw like teeth. They went deeper, right into his clavicle. Papyrus screamed, the initial sharp pain combining with the pain from Sans’s attentions to overwhelm him for a second. As Muffet withdrew, he tapered off into a long, low groan.

  
  
They didn’t let up from there. While Sans nibbled his way across Papyrus’s ribs, Muffet kept to his neck and shoulders. Bite marks appeared all along his clavicle and scapulae. They were scattered all over his lower ribs, where Sans could reach without much trouble. Marrow was smeared all over his ribs and possibly dripping onto the couch. Papyrus was jerked violently between the bliss of dull pain throughout his body and the sharp agony of each addition.  
  
When Sans ran out of space he slid down Papyrus. They lost contact for a second, but Sans quickly grabbed onto his legs. Papyrus jumped when Sans’s tongue suddenly touched his pelvis, drawing along his ischium, up his pubis, and to his ilium. He stopped there. Even though Papyrus knew what had to be coming next, he yelped and screamed as Sans bit down on the tender bone. Muffet giggled, lazily licking along the bites she had left along his clavicle.  
  
She seemed content to watch as Sans bit his way back down Papyrus’s pelvis and onto his femurs. Each one made him jerk and cry out, tears leaking from his sockets as his body protested the abuse. Sans finished by licking along them all again, probably as much to keep the marrow it off the carpet as anything. Muffet had switched to trailing her fingers across the wounds, but when Sans pulled back and stood, she also got up, leaving him alone with the pain. He happily basked in it, watching them meet and kiss again, this time more energetically. His marrow was all over their hands and mouths and it was the sexiest fucking thing he had ever seen. When they broke apart, Muffet licked a little more from Sans’s mandible.

  
  
“How are you feeling, love?” she asked, walking back over to him and picking up the forgotten bottle from the couch. He eyed it with exhausted curiosity.  
  
“Amazing,” he moaned, stretching in his bonds and reveling in how the movement made each individual tooth mark ache. She smiled at him while she twisted the cap off the bottle. He expected it to smell sweet, like everything she made, but this had an herbal smell. She poured a little into her opposite hand and set the bottle aside.  
  
Papyrus had been so focused on her he had stopped paying attention to Sans, so he was startled when he came up on the other side, a damp towel in his hand. He prepared himself for the first cold touch of it, but it was perfectly warm as it met his clavicle. Sans gently wiped away the marrow before Muffet, who dipped two fingers into the unknown mixture, rubbed it along the bites, making sure to get both sides of the bones.  
  
“Mmm,” Papyrus groaned gratefully as the pain dulled even further. It wasn’t gone, but it fell into the background and he had a feeling he was going to be able to move tomorrow. Muffet glanced at him and shot him a devious little smirk again. She used up the last of what was in her hand on his sternum. Instead of going straight for the bottle, she sat up and pressed her mouth to his jaw. He opened himself to her immediately, accepting her soft tongue into his mouth.  
  
She used it to coax his out. Once she had it, she scraped one fang against it again. He felt her pause, as if she was waiting. He had almost forgotten about the threats she never made good on, but at the offer, he wanted it even more. He stretched his tongue out further, surrendering it to her. She slipped her hand behind his skull, holding it steady, and bit down on his tongue.  
  
It was almost a tender bite, but the magical construct was delicate and the fresh pain was amplified by what had come before it. He arched up, trying not to pull and injure himself more than Muffet had intended. Bitter magic seeped into his mouth from his tongue as she released it, pulling his head back to lick at her fangs.  
  
Papyrus panted, overwhelmed by the blending of so much sensation. Muffet went back to treating him, getting more of the solution and putting it on the rest of his injured bones. Sans went back to the kitchen to put the towel away, so she also released his limbs. He collapsed onto the couch next to the pillows with a grunt. The soreness from holding the extreme position was barely noticeable to him right now, but he was sure he would feel it tomorrow.  
  
He stopped paying attention to anything but how deeply satisfied he felt as Muffet rearranged him, tucking a pillow under his skull and making room for herself and Sans, when he came back. Papyrus was dimly aware of the clinking of glasses, but he didn’t process what was going on until his skull was gently lifted and the sharp scent of cider wafted to him from a glass. He obediently sipped it and immediately felt less lethargic. Oh right, his HP. He hadn’t even thought about it, but his lovers clearly had.  
  
Eventually, they coaxed him into sitting and handed him a muffin. It was orange marmalade, with a shiny, sugar glaze on top. His favorite. He took a big bite and slumped against Sans, who half heartedly nudged him in a show of annoyance. He still settled himself against Papyrus’s side. Muffet squeezed herself into the spot on the other side of him, her skirt poofing up around her and squeezed him in her arm. It made the pain prickle just a little bit more.  
  
Papyrus sighed happily. 


	9. Blueberry Pie - Cannibalism, Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major Character Death, Gore, Involuntary Cannibalism, Dust Eating, Blood, it’s awful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE Thank you to Lyco ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny)|[Tumblr](http://nom-the-skel.tumblr.com/)) for the art!

“Heyya, Stretch.” Papyrus looked up from the TV and shivered at the sight of the other Sans. He was just unnerving, with the gaping hole in the side of his skull and his sharp, gnarled teeth. Still, Sans didn’t believe in turning away a friend, so when he came by Papyrus just had to deal with it.  
  
“Hi…” Papyrus tried to smile. “What’s up?”  
  
“Oh, I made this pie with Blue, and I was wondering if you’d like to try it,” he held up a pie- Papyrus had been too focused on his horrid face to notice it- which he was holding in his bare hands. Angry red burns were spreading from where his hands touched the dish. “You like sweet things, right?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, set it there,” Papyrus hastily gestured at the table. An injured house guest was sure to upset Sans. “It smells good.”  
  
It really did. Papyrus had been too zoned out to notice earlier, but the whole house smelled like the sweet pastry. Now that he did, he was salivating a bit in anticipation. Sans always lectured him about eating too many desserts, so it was rare for him to make any.  
  
The other Sans grinned at him, and his smile was almost enough to turn Papyrus’s stomach. Almost. He put down a plate and produced a knife from… somewhere. He hadn’t gone back into the kitchen. Had Sans come out and handed them to him?  
  
Papyrus decided to just focus on the pie so he didn’t have to look at the other Sans, who deftly cut a triangle and pulled the slice out. Deep blue filling glistened in between the pastry, a few soft blueberries spilling out onto the plate as it was set down. It looked as perfect as anything Muffet had ever made, which was impressive for Sans. Papyrus eagerly took the plate and a fork that he hadn’t noticed before either. The Sans just kept grinning at him.  
  
“Thanks,” he said absently. Sniffing it, he got a stronger taste of the smell he had been enjoying so far. This was going to be good. He pierced the tip of the slice with the fork and broke it off.  
  
“Wait!” The other Sans called out suddenly, looking upset. Papyrus paused, the bite halfway to his mouth. “I can’t let you eat that,” the Sans moaned, wiping one hand over the whole side of his face. “I’m such an idiot.”  
  
“Woah,” Papyrus put the bite down. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I’ve forgotten the ice cream!” The Sans bemoaned. He knocked himself on the skull a few times and walked towards the kitchen. “One second.”  
  
Papyrus sighed. Was that it? He was incredibly tempted to take a bite while he waited. It smelled so good! The crust was dark and browned, the berries were mixed with some kind of spice. He could see flecks of it in the syrup they were in. Vanilla beans, maybe. It wouldn’t hurt to have one bite without ice cream, and it would be good with the rest of it.  
  
Shrugging to himself, he picked the bite up and popped it into his mouth.  
  
It wasn’t quite as good as Muffet’s pies, but it was pretty good. The fruit was bright and flavorful and crust flaky. The only real problem was that the sugar hadn’t quite dissolved in the syrup for some reason. It was really grainy. Smiling to himself, he shook his skull. Sans always managed to mess up his cooking in the oddest ways.  
  
“Oh, you already ate some,” the Sans had come back with a small carton of vanilla ice cream. He looked a little upset.  
  
“Sorry,” Papyrus smiled in what he hoped was a winning way. “It just looked so good. I couldn’t help myself.” He gestured with the fork at the pie still on the table. “And it is really good! I can’t wait to tell Sans how much he’s improved.”  
  
“That’s a relief,” the Sans relaxed and set the carton down, opening it and sinking a spoon into the ice cream. “He really put all of himself into it this time.” He suddenly giggled, an eerie grating sound that made Papyrus pause with his mouth around the second bite. He chewed and swallowed quickly to ask.  
  
“What’s so funny?” he laughed nervously, worried he had missed a joke.  
  
“That was a good one, wasn’t it?” The Sans asked in reply, still giggling to himself. “’Put himself into it’ Hee hee hee,” he brought his hands up as if to hide his face, but he just hooked his fingers into his sockets. Papyrus winced. Sure, one of them was all but gone, but wasn’t the other active? If it bothered the Sans he didn’t show it, shoulders still shaking with mirth.

  
  
“Why… why is that funny?” Papyrus asked, looking down at the pie. With it’s dark crust. And flecks of black… spice… “No,” he laughed, ready to believe that there was some joke he was missing. That couldn’t be- there was no way.  
  
“Sans!” he called out, looking to the kitchen doorway. Why hadn’t Sans come out to give him the pie? Sans always loved seeing Papyrus eat his cooking. There was no reply from the kitchen. “Sans!” he yelled, tossing the slice of pie down on the table. He ran over to the kitchen doorway and looked inside. Sans was nowhere to be seen.  
  
“What…?” he didn’t even know how to phrase the question. Looking back over at the other Sans, Papyrus found him doubled over with laughter, his hands still in his sockets, as if he had pulled his own skull down with them. Something was dribbling from the whole socket along his fingers, but he just laughed.  
  
Papyrus looked back at the pie, tears blurring his vision as he realized that it was all he had left of his brother. Sans was gone, all because he had trusted this bastard. He wanted to lash out, destroy the other Sans for what he did, but he couldn’t yet. He was still completely numb as he stared at the pie in disbelief. The worst part was that some irreverent part of his mind spoke up in that moment and noted that the funeral would be easy.  
  
Cooking had always been Sans’s favorite thing. 


	10. UF Muffet/UT Sans - Rape, bondage, etc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: UF Muffet/UT Sans, Rape/noncon, kidnapping, pet play, object insertion (puss and sockets), human furniture, bondage, gagging, collar and leash, peppers are not good for foodplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE Thank you to Lyco ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny)|[Tumblr](http://nom-the-skel.tumblr.com/)) for the art!

“Be a dear and lay down right here,” Muffet patted the bed, her voice hard despite the polite words. Sans stood in the doorway, as far from her and the bed as his leash would allow. The collar pressed into the back of his neck, keeping him from fleeing all together.  
  
“I’d rather not,” he answered her, matching her fake politeness. She frowned at him and gave the leash a tug, making him stumble forward. He almost tripped on the baggy feet of the ridiculous thing she had him wearing. It was a full body dog costume, and clearly meant for a monster who was less stunted than him. She had done her best to tailor it for him, but it was still baggy and cumbersome. Maybe she even did it on purpose. It would make it harder to run.

  
  
“It wasn’t really a request,” she kept pulling, dragging him towards the bed. “You should know by now that pets don’t speak up like that.” There was venom in her voice, chilling Sans to his soul. There was going to be consequences for his little defiance.  
  
“Sorry-!” He yelped as he was pulled down onto the bed by the leash. Muffet’s hands surrounded him, turning him over onto his back. Her spiders swarmed his hands and feet, impossibly strong webbing forming around them and attaching them to the bed. He pulled, but it was tight enough to keep him from pulling his hands through the costume’s sleeves even. His carpels hurt from the pressure.  
  
“It’s too late for that, dear,” she said, rummaging through her desk. She came back with a needle and some thick white thread. It almost looked like it was made from more of the webbing. She crawled onto the bed and straddled his rib cage. “If you can’t be quiet, I’ll just have to help.”  
  
She threaded the needle with one set of hands while two more clamped down around his skull, one on the top and one along the bottom of his jaw. He tried to open his mouth, but she was stronger than she looked. He couldn’t even shake them off with a few thrashes of his skull.  
  
The needle didn’t go where he expected. It went straight into his socket, along with several of Muffet’s fingers. He howled into his closed teeth, his legs kicking as she invaded his skull. It wasn’t painful as much as uncomfortable, and his magic quickly gave up keeping his eyelight in that socket, leaving him blind in one eye. A hand slipped up under his jaw and into his skull that way, an equally uncomfortable experience. It withdrew holding the needle and the thread slipped along the edge of his socket and into him.  
  
“NNN,” Sans whined, trying once again to get free. Muffet smiled down at him, bringing the needle up and around into his socket again. Then down around his jaw it came, before repeating the process a few more times. She paused then, doing something with the thread that was wrapped through his skull that tightened it uncomfortably. He teared up, prematurely, it seemed, because she kept going after that, looping and then tightening the thread in sets that went all the way across his mouth and through both sockets. He couldn’t move an inch without feeling the thread rub against something it shouldn’t be laying across, like the edges of his sockets.  
  
“Isn’t arts and crafts fun?” Muffet asked as she knotted it off at the end. The knot sat against his lower jaw and was certainly going to rub painfully. Sans grunted, the most noise he could make now, and felt the thread grow damp against his cheek bones. His eyelights gradually returned, feeling out of place from the string.  
  
“Now, where were we?” she asked as she climbed off him and back to the desk. Sans wanted to point out that she was asking the wrong monster, but that was probably the point of the question. He settled for staring up at the ceiling and trying not to imagine all the horrible things that this ‘play time’ could entail.  
  
She came back with a nice metal tray, the sides filigree so he could see just bits of color from what it held. He caught glimpses of orange, red, and green. What in the world could that be? While she set it on the table, one of her hands reached out and plucked at his outfit, She tsked, and he had a feeling she wanted it off of him, but she didn’t remove his restraints. Instead she set about unbuttoning the front, the last button giving her access to his pelvis. That was never good.  
  
“Oh, dear, you might not want those,” Muffet gestured at his sockets, which made no sense. There wasn’t any further explanation, just Muffet’s hand down his costume and up against his pelvis. Groaning wordlessly, Sans arched up into her touch before the revulsion hit and he tried to pull his body away from her. There was nowhere for it to really go, and she easily followed the movement, chuckling.  
  
He kicked and wiggled, but he had been there long enough for Muffet to know all of his spots, and she was more than willing to exploit them. His magic gathered and formed into flesh around and up into his pelvic inlet. He cried out in frustration, but it was muffled and useless. More tears joined the others that were slowly soaking down his muzzle.  
  
“There we go,” she chirped happily and reached for the tray. He wasn’t expecting the carrot, in her hand, but he was also beyond being shocked at the ways she could find to use and humiliate him. Sure enough, it was brought down into the costume and he felt the cold tip of it along the lips of his magic. At least it wasn’t too thick.  
  
It did feel even colder as it entered him, the length firm and surprisingly smooth. The tapered tip might not have been very wide, but it got wider as she went deeper with it, stretching him but not uncomfortably so. When it was all the way in and she stopped he breathed a sigh of relief through his nose hole. Muffet giggled again, which brought back some of the nervousness.  
  
She went back to the tray and got a pepper, also long and tapered. She held it up, making sure he got a good look before putting it up against his pussy. At first it was just smooth, which he was glad for. When she forced it past the flared head of the carrot it didn’t hurt too badly, though as it went in it also flared, making his magic burn as it was stretched. He whined again and was ignored again.  
  
Muffet got it all the way in and went to the tray again, considering it for a long moment before picking up a cucumber. Sans tensed, making his magic hurt even worse. That would be thick for him if he didn’t already have half a salad crammed up there already. She couldn’t be serious. He started to shake his head, but stopped when he got a warning glare from her. Pets didn’t get to say no.  
  
Thankfully, she didn’t put the cucumber down his pants and up his pussy. Unfortunately, she did set it up against his left socket, checking to see if it would fit. He was pretty well convinced it wouldn’t and would have told her as much if he could have. He couldn’t, and she pressed the vegetable forward into his skull without comment.  
  
“MMHN!” Sans wailed, the magic that made it possible for him to see retreating before the oncoming cucumber. Both eyelights snuffed out defensively, and he was left blind again. That’s what she meant. The cucumber kept going until it bumped the back of his skull. There it stayed, heavy and tight in his socket.  
  
He couldn’t see what was coming next, but he knew there would be a next. His morbid curiosity couldn’t convince his traumatized magic that it was safe to reform his remaining eyelight, even just for a second to see what it was. So all he knew about the next vegetable was that it was strangely bumpy as it rubbed along the edges of his other socket. He found out when it reached the back of his skull that it was also flat on the end, which was also strange.  
  
“Not bad at all,” Muffet mused from above him, it sounded like. Sans disagreed strongly. This was bad, very bad, and the magic of his pussy was really starting to burn now. Not just where it was stretched wide by the tops of the vegetables, but all throughout. He had a very bad feeling about that pepper. It wasn’t just a dull burn right now, but if she left it in there…  
  
“They can’t really reach those ones, though,” she kept talking, oblivious to his growing panic. “What if we…”  
  
She broke the webs around his ankles like it was nothing, which made it all the more frustrating that they were like iron chains when he tried, but before he could try and struggled she took each one in a hand and brought them up, bending his knees and tucking them along his ribs. She kept going, his spine curling to keep up. He ended with his pelvis sticking up in the air and his knees pointing down to the bed. Spiders tickled along his bones, their webs anchoring him in place.  
  
“It’s perfect!” Muffet exclaimed, pulling the consume open to peer at his pelvis and the stems sticking up out of him. The movement had rubbed the pepper around, and the heat from it was much stronger than before. “Well, one more, I think. Threes are always nice.”  
  
He wanted to cry ‘No!’ at her and beg her not to put anything else inside of him, but he couldn’t with the thread keeping him quiet. All he could do was cry more as she put another carrot into him, the painful stretching it caused exasperated by the pepper’s heat seeping into him.  
  
“Can’t forget the garnish!” A group of thin… stalks, he supposed, were inserted into his nose hole. They tickled, the added stimulation entirely unwelcome. He almost wanted to sneeze, but couldn’t. They smelled earthy and sharp, reminiscent of something Papyrus put in his spaghetti. That wasn’t fair. He started to shake, sobs bubbling out of him, only to run into his teeth. His jaw ached with the desire to open them and let the noise out. The tears that had stopped briefly came back, fat and heavy.  
  
“Get it out now, dear.” Muffet pat his skull condescendingly. “You need to be perfect on Saturday, and centerpieces don’t cry.”


	11. Kustard - Body worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Kustard, body image issues, body worship

Red hated that he had been talked into this. He hated that Sans could turn on that lazy- and still somehow charming- smile and wag his brow bones and get Red to agree to dumb shit like this.   
  
“Are you sure?” He called out, hoping Sans had changed his mind. “There's still time to spare yourself.”   
  
“Oh hell no! I am ready for this,” Sans yelled back. “Got the popcorn and everything.”   
  
“Great,” Red grumbled under his breath. That definitely helped his nerves.   
  
Gathering his magic, he let it coat his bones, an outer ‘skin’ forming to capture the rest of the magic, which built up into the mass of his ‘body’. The result could be generously described as bulky. Thick thighs that squished together where they met held up a beer gut that Sans had definitely earned. It was big enough that it stuck out and sagged down a little over his limp cock, which had formed with the rest. His chest was even soft, mounds of the flesh protruding embarrassingly. The magic tapered off as it hit his elbows and knees, thankfully.   
  
“Red?” Sans called.   
  
“I’m comin’,” Red snapped, running his hands down the front of his body with a self conscious grimace. He had agreed, so it was time to go face Sans’s teasing. He wished he at least had his jacket.   
  
“Alright, you impatient bastard, here I am,” Red announced, stepping back into the bedroom naked and flesh covered. Sans was staring at the closet door with excitement, no popcorn in sight. Red was a little disappointed. Now he wanted popcorn.   
  
When he caught sight of Red, Sans’s eyelights danced up and down in his sockets, taking in the rolls of flesh. They paused briefly when they reached Red’s pelvis, and that damn smile flashed onto his face. Red’s soul did a little flip and he blushed. Sans’s gaze continued on, the monster himself walking slowly forward.   
  
“Well, say something!” Red grumbled. The silence was killing him. Sans stepped up right in front of him and looked him in the sockets.   
  
“Can I touch it?” he asked and Sans could hear the excitement in his voice.   
  
“Oh, yeah… of course,” Red looked away, feeling shy. He had assumed that was going to be part of it, but Sans’s respect for his comfort was nice. Red lifted his arms a little, offering.   
  
Sans’s phalanges touched down lightly at first, one hand along the side of his rib cage and the other caressing the flesh along his pelvis just a hair away from touching his butt. Red shivered, the soft touches tickling a little. He wasn’t used to having this much magic on, and he had never been touched with it. You would think that it would insulate his bones, but the magic was directly wired into his soul and infinitely more sensitive.   
  
The upper hand stayed put, the digits stroking playfully, while the lower one rubbed in circles along his hip. The circles got wider and wider until they stopped because Sans had gotten distracted. His hand slid along Red’s left buttocks, touch firming as he went until he was cupping the jiggly flesh. His phalanges were digging in, which Red should have found uncomfortable, but his hips twitched with interest and not from distress.   
  
“Oooh,” Sans made a delighted noise as he massaged Red’s butt. “Soft.” He pulled Red up against him, so that the flesh of Red’s stomach and chest was trapped against Sans’s ribs. It was unreal feeling the definition of the bones through Sans’s t-shirt and the way his magic squished between them. Sans’s other hand joined the first, squeezing Red’s other buttocks and effectively trapping him against Sans.   
  
“What are you doing, idiot?” Red asked, looking above Sans’s skull to avoid making socket contact while he was blazing red in the face. “Isn’t that gross?”   
  
“Gross?” Sans asked, incredulous. “Are you kidding? This is great. You’re great!” He kissed Red along his jaw line and down into the curve of his neck. “I love the feel of you.” He peppered the words between his stupid kisses.   
  
“What- shut up!” Sans exclaimed, his face actually on fire now. Hot tears burned along his sockets, making it that much more awful. What business did he have being that sweet?   
  
“Can I… nuzzle you?” Sans didn’t listen to him, as per usual. “Just a little.”   
  
“What the fuck does that even… sure, fine, whatever,” Sans didn’t want to hear an embarrassing answer, so he stopped his question and just agreed. Sans beamed and kissed him before, surprisingly, dropping to his knees. This put him at a level with Sans’s cock… and his big floppy belly.   
  
“I can…” he hooked his hands under the flesh to lift it up out of Sans’s way. Sans looked up at him with a patient expression and gently pulled his hands away. The belly flopped back into place.   
  
Sans pressed his face into it, rubbing it back and forth while humming with contentment. He paused with his face fully buried in the flesh before tapping kisses along Red’s belly and down across his hip to his thigh. His sudden proximity to Red’s cock made it both more exciting and more embarrassing. Sans sighed and rubbed his hands up and down Red’s thighs.   
  
“I can’t believe we never did this before. You’re so hot,” he licked the flesh right over where Red’s pelvis met his femur. Red jerked in surprise, a wordless cry of pleasure slipping out of his mouth. Sans repeated it on the other side, and Red had to hold onto his skull. His knees were so weak suddenly that it felt like he would fall. His cock, however, was starting to stand up, just from that. Sans really did know how to get him riled up.   
  
“You’re so full of- ah!” Red couldn’t tell Sans that he was full of shit because Sans chose that moment to take Red’s cock into his mouth and give it a squeeze with his tongue. After that he didn’t want to, because Sans was staring up at him with a loving look that almost made him believe it.


	12. Gift for Ganz - Gore, Death, Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara never liked Sans, and now they can finally do something about it. 
> 
> Warnings: GORE!, Major Injury, Dismemberment, Major Character Death, Obsession, Torture, Bone Breaking, Marrow/Blood, Genocide Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never posted this??? 
> 
> This was a gift for the dear nsfwsinningsans's ([tumblr](https://nsfwsinningsans.tumblr.com/)) birthday last year. (And they drew [art](https://nsfwsinningsans.tumblr.com/post/170575801720/gift-fic-for-ganz) for it because they're amazing like that.) 
> 
> Watch the warnings! It's a dark one.

“…”  
  
Red eyes met steady white eyelights.   
  
“What’s wrong, kid? Ca-”  
  
“I’m not a kid!” Chara snapped, tossing back their shoulder length brown hair defiantly. The bonehead just kept smiling at them. He’d stopped talking, but didn’t really seem fazed. Chara had been hoping to throw him off balance. They found it annoying. They found him annoying.   
  
“Sure you are,” Sans responded, shrugging.   
  
“I’m not!” Chara growled. “I’m twelve and,” Chara switched seamlessly to an easy, mocking smile, “I’m taller than you, shorty.”   
  
Dad had talked to them before the skeletons came and explained that they were a little hard to read due to the fact that they couldn’t stop smiling. He’d told them to be nice and careful about what they said. It would be impossible to tell if they were upset or sad.   
  
However, it certainly looked to Chara like this one was a little less smiley than he had been. He was still grinning, but it was brittle, insincere. Not at all like before. Much more like Chara’s own.   
  
“Chara…don’t,” Asriel piped up from behind them. Chara turned to him and frowned, to which Asriel smiled weakly, positively radiating kindness. Chara’s stomach roiled at the sight. Asriel was their brother and they loved him like he was blood… but stars they couldn’t stand him sometimes.  
  
“Why not? He’s what? 15, and I can almost see the top of his bald little head,” Chara said, starting to laugh as they turned back to Sans. His expression hadn’t changed, sadly. Maybe they would need to push harder. There was something dark and vicious behind that smile, and they wanted to see it.   
  
“That’s his skull…” Asriel pointed out timidly. “Dad said-”   
  
“Dad’s a big softy! All of them are moving into our house. We should make sure they’re worthy.”   
  
“Chara…” Asriel tried again, but Chara was done defending themself. They wanted to play.  
  
“Is it true you guys are experiments?”   
  
“Heh, you should think about listening to your brother, kid,” Sans replied, a little more venom in his voice, yet somehow still sounding carefree. Chara grinned at him.  
  
“Why? Do you listen to your younger brother?”  
  
“Yep. Paps gives the best advice. He’s a real cool kid.”   
  
“Ha!” Chara snorted. “I’ve seen him, and ‘cool’ is not the word I’d use. He doesn’t even talk right.”  
  
“Chara-!”   
  
“Careful, kid.” Sans’s voice had lost all of its casual tone, and he sounded like he might actually be getting really mad.   
  
“Is he the failed experimen-”   
  
“D o n ‘ t”   
  
Chara froze, a rare thrill of fear coursing through them. That hadn’t even sounded like the same monster. They looked Sans in the sockets – the blank sockets. It was so creepy! Could he even see like that?  Questions raced through their mind.   
  
No one moved, though Chara could hear Asriel whimper behind them. The room was silent otherwise. Chara kept waiting for Sans to do something, but before he did, sharp, even footfalls filtered into the room from the hallway.   
  
Chara glanced at the door, and when they looked back, Sans’s eyelights were back and his smile had relaxed. He, noticeably, had not looked at the door. Chara also knew who was approaching, seeing as it wasn’t Dad’s thundering stride, Mom’s gentle padding, or the wild staccato of the other skeleton child. Sure enough, Doctor Gaster stuck his skull through the doorway.   
  
He smiled at the three of them nervously.   
  
Chara glared back.   
  
“Everything going okay in here?” he asked, which was more than Chara was used to. He must be making an effort to get involved. Ick. They knew full well he was just trying to keep Mom and Dad happy. He didn’t really care. All he cared about was his science.   
  
“Y-yes, Doctor Gaster,” Asriel offered, and Chara felt a swell of pride. Even when he didn’t agree with them, he would never betray them. Asriel was loyal, if nothing else.   
  
“Good!” Gaster’s smile relaxed, and Chara wondered why he could make expressions when Sans couldn’t. “You should go finish unpacking, Sans.”   
  
When Chara looked back at Sans, they were surprised to find him still staring at them. Smiling his sweetest smile, Chara waved at him.   
  
“Until next time, brother.”   
——-  
“Oh! Oh! Now his femur!” Chara cried, clapping their hands joyfully.   
  
Frisk didn’t make any indication that they’d heard them, but grabbed the skeleton’s left femur with their magic-slicked hand. It took a few tries, but they managed to pry it free, twisting it like they were taking a drumstick off a turkey. More deep blue magic spilled out from the joint and there was a rattling gasp from the skeleton that the bone used to be attached to.   
  
“It’s amazing what a 1 HP freak like you can take,” Chara mocked, hovering over Sans so they could look into his empty sockets. It wasn’t quite as scary now that they had killed him a few times. “It’s a shame I still don’t know if you’re a test tube monster.”  
  
Nothing.   
  
Scowling, Chara sat back and hovered upright, looking down their nose at Sans. Of all the monsters, Sans was the only one who knew about the resets. He might even know about Gaster when no one else did. Not even Dad remembered Gaster. He would be so sad to know that. It almost made Chara sad. Almost.   
  
What Sans couldn’t do was see Chara. He would go on about ‘friendship’ to Frisk, about ‘knowing they’re a good person’ and ‘able to change’ in a way he had never spoken to Chara. They had to wonder what had happened to change his outlook. At least he was the same old vicious Sans when it really came down to it.   
  
“Let’s see what’s in those bones,” Chara tossed out thoughtfully. Frisk bent down and picked up the discarded femur. “No, no, one that’s still attached.”   
  
There was a moment’s hesitation, and then they dropped it. Crouching over Sans, who was groaning in pain, Frisk took hold of one of his ribs with their little fingers.   
  
“I-” Sans coughed and tried to raise his head. “I’m…dust…pl-” A fit of coughing seized him and that was actually pretty fascinating. Chara floated closer to watch as flecks of blue, red, and yellow flew from his mouth. Even though they knew the liquid couldn’t touch them, they shied away from letting it get too close.   
  
“Where is it coming from?” Chara asked, not that there was going to be an answer. “And that red… you sneaky little freak.”  
  
“K-kid…” Sans gasped. Chara stared at him with cold eyes. The moniker cut deep, especially now that Sans was an adult.   
  
And Chara was stuck at 14. Forever.  
  
“Do it!” they hissed, and Frisk stopped hesitating. The rib gave way with a sharp crack. Sadly, Sans was too far gone to actually scream, and all they got was a gasp of pain.   
  
Chara hid their disappointment by inspecting the darker red that was dripping slowly from the broken, jagged end left behind as Frisk stood panting over Sans.   
  
“Marrow, huh?” Chara looked at the spongy substance. “That’s actually the most surprising part of today’s tests, experiment. End it.”  
  
Frisk took the knife and slashed it across Sans’s chest, marking it with a long red line like always. Chara drifted upwards, ignoring Sans’s closing lines. They were always the same, no matter what they did. It was only further proof that he was some kind of experiment, as far as Chara was concerned.   
  
Though that reasoning didn’t explain why he wouldn’t die until they cut him like that. Neither did the determination. They’d figure it out someday. Another reset, another test.  
  
Frisk was already walking towards the throne room. Chara trailed along, but hung back slightly. It always sucked seeing Dad… and Asriel.   
——  
“Whhr uuu ooin?” Sans asked, waving his humeri at Frisk frantically. The stumps were still streaming the blue magic that held them together, but spraying Frisk with it was the worst he could do. Chara cackled at the pathetic display.   
  
“Don’t stop now! Rip it off!” they egged on. It was nice to get back to the fun stuff. Not that watching Sans mourn his idiot brother on the surface hadn’t been fun, but the path to get there, playing nice with everyone, had been exhausting.   
  
“Nnnnnnnm,” Sans groaned, as Frisk found some kind of fingerhold finally. He was too weak to hold out. After a few more tries, his teeth began to part, screaming like the very act of opening was painful. Chara had always wondered.   
  
“It’s a shame I can’t hurt that idiot like this,” they muttered to themself. Frisk paused at that. “Keep going,” Chara commanded and they did. They had to remember to watch what they said. Frisk always had an annoying attachment to Papyrus, which was exactly why they couldn’t. Frisk wasn’t deep enough under their control when it was time to face him. Chara could force them to kill, but more specific tasks were impossible.   
  
CRACK!

Chara’s attention was drawn back to the scene as Frisk separated Sans’s jaw from his body. The lower teeth flew out of Frisk’s blue coated hand. Sans made a gurgling noise and appeared to finally pass out. At least, he wasn’t moving. It was hard to really tell with skeletons, when they didn’t monologue their own death.   
  
“No more jokes, you smiley- well no, you don’t even have your stupid smile.” Chara laughed, wrapping incorporeal arms around their nonexistent belly. “You’re just a broken bag of bones, now.”   
  
Frisk was staring down at Sans mutely. He showed no signs of dusting, though magic was spilling unchecked from the tattered ruins of his mouth. It was splashing onto Frisk’s feet, not that they weren’t already covered. Once Sans finally went, so would it.   
  
Dad would never know.   
  
“Even that didn’t kill you.” Chara shook their head in mock pity. “I think it’s time to put you out of your misery.”   
  
Frisk’s arm raised, the knife seeming to appear out of nowhere. With a flash of light, it made the same mark yet again.   
  
“Gggrggrrr…”  
  
Sans was still trying to say his dying words. Chara couldn’t help it and started to laugh harder, tears leaking from their eyes. Frisk hunched in place, still clutching the knife, now splattered with marrow.    
  
“I can’t wait to rip you apart, down to the soul, and see what you do then,” Chara tossed out as they followed Frisk onwards.   
  
“Until next time, brother dearest.”

**Author's Note:**

> http://idontevenknowwhattoputhereugh.tumblr.com/
> 
> My tumblr is where I: take requests, post streams, chit chat, do teasers, try out new fics, reblog a lot of skeleton porn, pimp all my favorite fics


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